Harry Potter and the Eye of Tae Nan
by Kyizi
Summary: Harry and his friends are back at Hogwarts for their fifth year. But with Voldemort back, what lengths will they have to go to to protect the ones they love? Cemara stones, Atlantis, interschool exchanges and Animagi, what can possibly go wrong…? *BETAD
1. Chapter 1: Warning Signs

Harry Potter and the Eye of Tae Nan  
By Kyizi  
  
Disclaimer: I own none of the main characters and only a few of the minor ones. J.K. Rowling created these characters, and as far as I know, they are still her property. Only the story is mine.  
  
Rating: If you can read the books then you can read this.  
  
Timeline/Spoilers: Starts in the summer holidays after the fourth book and will continue through Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts. Therefore, there will be spoilers for all four books.  
  
Notes: I'm attempting to write this in the same style as J.K. Rowling writes the books. I'm basically trying to write, in essence the next book. Well, where my imagination takes it at least! I realise that to do what she will is an impossibility, but I'm just having a bit of fun and *need* to get this out of my head! You may notice that a lot of the first chapter will simple rehash the last book, but as I'm planning on integrating it all into my story, I felt it needed to be done.  
  
Summary: Harry and his friends are back at Hogwarts for their fifth year. But with Voldemort back, what lengths will they have to go to to protect the ones they love? Cemara stones, Atlantis, interschool exchanges and Animagi, what can possibly go wrong.?  
  
Feedback: Please let me know how I'm doing as I'm attempting a completely different style and pointers, praise, tips and ideas are all welcome, as is constructive criticism. Please send no flames.  
  
Email address: kyizifanfic@hotmail.com  
  
Yahoo Group:   
  
Notes: A big thanks to my betas Heliona and Loriel who spent ages trawling through this! Love ya! *mwah*  
  
~x~x~x~x~x~  
  
Part One  
  
Warning Signs  
  
~x~x~x~x~x~  
The room was dank and dirty and the shadows danced slowly with the musty, low light. The stale air seemed to stiffly circulate the room, but not really go anywhere as gravity held everything in its place. A constant creaking seemed deafening in the otherwise silent room.  
  
The walls were made of dirt, as if someone had carved a room into the very Earth, with no visible way in or out. Through the walls, floor, and ceiling, which all had the appearance of being cut with a sharp knife, creatures could be seen moving about amongst the roots. The walls were the same length; straight and as perfect as could be, except in one corner of the room where the roots of a tree had upset the regularity of the room.  
  
In the centre was a table which dominated the room, lending it a claustrophobic atmosphere. The room was otherwise empty, except for one corner where a figure sat rocking slowly in a chair. Its feet did not touch the floor, yet still the chair continued to creak in a continuous, regular rhythm, moving seemingly of its own accord. Hunched in the corner by the chair sat another creature. It was a man, human, but not human. Something in its presence that screamed that there was something inhuman about him. He followed orders, he tried to please; more like a pet, a clone, or a robot than a human.  
  
There was a sharp laugh from the figure in the chair, and the man cowered before his master. He had thought his idea innovative, his information helpful, but it remained to be seen whether or not his master agreed. His eyes drifted quickly to the shining silver hand on his right arm. He had given his master the gift of life, and he had been rewarded, but he still could not forget the pain it had caused, or the pain he felt with each new failure.  
  
"You have done well."  
  
The words rang through the room with a painful clarity, lifting the weight from the man's shoulders. He had done well. This did not encourage him to think any higher of himself. Nothing had changed, and he lived for at least another day.  
  
"You will continue to look, and you will find her." The voice left no room for failure. "If she is close by, as you say, she is mine, and I will have the ultimate power. It will rise from the oceans and nothing will stop me."  
  
The man in the chair pulled out his wand and waved it a little, muttering something under his breath. The room erupted in a blinding red flash and the table vanished. A moment later, with a small *pop*, both the inhabitants disappeared too, leaving only the chair, slowly rocking back and forth with a continuous creak.  
  
A few hundred miles away, a young boy with a lightning bolt scar on his forehead awoke, the fading traces of a dream running through his mind, until all wisps of its memory drifted away.  
  
*  
  
Number four Privet Drive was a normal house, on a normal street, in a perfectly normal neighbourhood. In the gentle orange glow of the near-dawn sky on a morning such as the third of August, this house looked no different than any of the others in the area, just as it should be.  
  
The small light that trickled from the window of the "spare bedroom" drew no more attention than the moon that penetrated the sky, simply because it seemed perfectly normal. It was strange then that this non-event should, therefore, be nothing but the exact opposite.  
  
In the confines of what had once been Dudley Dursley's second bedroom lay a young boy, hiding under his bed sheets, scribbling away on a piece of parchment, with what one could easily mistake as a quill. To non-Muggle folk, however, that was exactly the case.  
  
Harry Potter was an orphan, living with his Aunt and Uncle in this normal house. Normal, however, was something that Harry had never really been, despite the fact that, for most of his life, he had been forced to try. While Harry had the appearance of a normal fifteen year old, he was of average height, he had dark green eyes that had a tendency to sparkle when he was happy, and an exceptionally messy mop of dark hair on his head that refused to be tamed, he was far from ordinary. The reason for this was simply that Harry Potter was a wizard. Not just any wizard, but a famous one, known for, when he was just a baby, defeating the greatest dark wizard in memory.  
  
Harry's parents had died protecting him, and it was for this reason that he had lived ten years and every summer holiday thereafter with his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, who, by all standards, were the worst kind of Muggles. (Muggles, of course, being non-magic folk.) Harry's only saving grace was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where he, along with his best friends, Hermione and Ron, was soon to start his Fifth Year.  
  
Ron Weasley. What he wouldn't have given to stay with his friend this summer, instead of coming back to the Dursleys'. Ron was the youngest son of a large wizarding family that lived in a rickety house known as The Burrow. Harry always felt safe amongst the Weasleys. They may have been widely known simply for their red hair and freckles, but to Harry they were more of a family to him than the Dursleys had ever been - not that that was exactly difficult. It was with them that he felt safe, almost as safe as he did at Hogwarts.  
  
Harry hissed as yet more pain coursed through his forehead, forcing him to lay down his quill. He began to rub his eyes, feeling that perhaps he should continue his homework tomorrow night. The last thing he needed was for his most hated teacher, Professor Snape, to fail him because he had spilt ink all over his Potions homework. That was, of course, assuming Snape was at Hogwarts this year. As much as that thought should have pleased him, it didn't. Too much had happened last year for him to feel anything but upset and angry, and if he dared to admit it to himself, afraid. For it was in this last year that Lord Voldemort, that same wizard who had killed his parents and been defeated by baby Harry, had risen again. Voldemort was so feared that most of the wizarding world dared not even speak his name aloud.  
  
Hiding his school things under the loose floorboard that he was ever thankful for, he climbed back into his bed, praying that, for tonight at least, he wouldn't have more nightmares. He had already succeeded in waking up half the neighbourhood at least three times since he had arrived back on Privet Drive. Given that he'd been starved for a few days as a result, he didn't think it wise to do so again.  
  
He slowly rubbed his scar, that constant reminder of his defeat of Voldemort, that constant reminder of his parents' death. It was a small lightning-shaped scar that cut across his forehead and was as famous as he himself, as it was the way most people in the wizarding world were able to identify him, much to his dismay. Fame was a concept that Harry did not really understand, at least in association with himself. He had little memory of the event that had occurred when his parents had been killed. Only a green light that he knew had engulfed and destroyed his mother.  
  
Groaning again, he closed his eyes. He felt sure that his scar was glowing deep red, for it was this that was his link with Voldemort. It was a magical scar; a result of the curse that Voldemort had tried to kill him with, and it was the source of his nightmares. It allowed him the dubious honour of being subject to viewing the inner workings of Voldemort's evil doings and, ever since the dark wizard's return, it had been a continuous playback of death and destruction, which was why his latest dream had him utterly confused.  
  
He wrinkled his brow as he tried to recall any remaining memory of his last dream, but to no avail. He remembered a dark room, but little else. Voldemort and Wormtail had been present, but apart from that, he remembered nothing. Yet there was a strange sensation tugging at his subconscious. He felt as if he should know something else, as if there was some missing piece to the puzzle that not even the dream had answered.  
  
Sighing, he turned over onto his side. As always, his thoughts returned to his parents. It seemed now that whenever he was at a loss to recall his continual nightmares, they were there for him. That made him smile. When he was younger he had always imagined what his parents were like, as, he supposed, would any child who had grown up as he had. The only difference was that his parents weren't as wonderful as he had imagined - they were better. Just thinking about his parents, about how he had seen the shadow of them only a month ago, sent a stabbing pain through his chest. He wished he had known them, and he couldn't help the bitterness in that thought. Someone they had considered a friend had betrayed them. If not for Wormtail, they would still be alive.  
  
Slowly Harry closed his eyes, clearing his mind of thoughts about his parents' death and hoping that he wouldn't be plagued by the other images that had haunted him the last few weeks. Still nightmares, these were as vivid as the images sent through his scar, but they were of events past. They were always different and yet, at the same time, there was something the same. Him. He was always there and, no matter what he did, he couldn't save them. Not his parents as Voldemort killed them, encompassing his mother in green light, and not Cedric.  
  
It was last year at the Triwizard Tournament that everything had gone wrong. One of Voldemort's main supporters had succeeded in placing Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire, despite the fact that he was too young, in the hopes that he would win. He then turned the winner's cup into a Portkey, which allowed the winner to be transported to Voldemort's whereabouts, where they, Wormtail and Voldemort, had awaited his arrival. They had not bargained on Cedric, a student in his final year, and Harry, being joint winners. Voldemort had simply ordered Cedric killed. But it wasn't so simple to Harry. He had been there, watched it happen, and had been unable to do anything.  
  
It was something that had haunted Harry; that he had been unable to stop it. He had destroyed one of the most powerful wizards as a baby but, as a young man, had been ineffective in stopping that same wizard from killing Cedric. It tortured his dreams, and those were as frequent as the pains in his scar.  
  
The dreams of Voldemort and his 'meetings' were getting continually more disturbing and Harry was sure that he was seeing a familiar person, hidden in the shadows of the room, but he couldn't put his finger on who it was. He knew that it was important, knew it was something that he should know, but still the person's identity eluded him. That worried him. He knew it was someone that was on Voldemort's side, but he had no idea who that could be. It worried him because this person could be doublecrossing Dumbledore, could be pretending to be on their side, and what if this person succeeded in betraying them? Harry couldn't help but think it would all be his fault for not recognising who it was.  
  
Wishing away his nightmares, Harry fell into a fitful sleep, completely unaware that the pain in his scar had suddenly vanished. Slowly, his thrashing subsided and, for the first time in weeks, Harry slept uninterrupted. For the first time in a long time, there was nothing amiss in the dreams of Harry Potter.  
  
*  
  
After a dreamless sleep, Harry woke up feeling more refreshed than he had in a long time, and not even his cousin could take that away from him. Aware that something was different, yet unaware as to what it was, Harry headed down the stairs for breakfast. Passing through the hallway, he couldn't help but snicker at the latest podgy photograph of his annoying cousin Dudley that was hanging next to yet more podgy photographs of Dudley at various ages.  
  
Sending a longing glance to the cupboard under the stairs - once his residence, now the home of his wonderful Firebolt, he sighed. What he wouldn't give to magic open the door, steal the broomstick, and fly to The Burrow, leaving the Dursleys behind.  
  
Shaking his head, Harry decided not to let it dampen his spirits and entered the kitchen. Instantly, Aunt Petunia waved him in the direction of the cooker, where he set about preparing breakfast. He was used to chores; he had been brought up cooking, and cleaning, and gardening for his aunt and uncle. He had resented and despised them for it but now, he didn't mind so much. The knowledge that he would soon be leaving the Dursleys' was more than enough compensation. He had, of course, known throughout the summer that Dumbledore would let him spend part of the holidays with Ron, but it was only in the past few days that he had realised that the summer was more than half gone, and that meant Ron would surely owl him soon to invite him to The Burrow.  
  
Since then, his mood had improved so radically that his aunt had punished him by giving him more chores, sure that he must have been using magic in some way, despite her knowledge that he wasn't allowed to do so. But the truth was, all Harry had to do was count. Two more summers and that was it. His life with the Dursleys would be over. Once he was of age to leave school as a fully qualified wizard, he would no longer need to stay at number four Privet Drive, with his aunt and uncle as his guardians. Two years!  
  
Smiling, Harry put the breakfast onto plates and took them to the table. Pulling out a chair at the other end of the table from Uncle Vernon, who was still rather upset that Harry had blown up his sister last year - literally - Harry helped himself to some toast, sending an amused glance at his cousin.  
  
It seemed that the diet that Aunt Petunia and his school nurse had come up with for Dudley had actually worked. Harry had almost died of shock upon arriving home from Hogwarts this year to find a thin Dudley sitting in the living room, munching on a breadstick. The only problem was that Aunt Petunia had been so thrilled with Dudley's achievement that she felt the need to spoil him rotten, and had proceeded to stuff him with chocolates and cakes all summer. Needless to say, Dudley hadn't put up much of a fight. Now, if it were possible, the boy was larger than Harry had ever seen him. He'd gone from looking like a beached whale to looking like a pod of beached whales!  
  
The only wonderful thing that had occurred this summer was that Harry had grown. While it was not much of an achievement for the average growing teenager, to Harry it was the best thing that could have happened to him. Although you could still easily fit four Harrys into one pair of Dudley's trousers, Harry was now a few inches taller than his cousin. This, together with the fact that Dudley was now terrified of Harry's magical abilities, meant that he was sure to never bully the taller boy again.  
  
"Well then, boy, what is the meaning of this?" Uncle Vernon thrust a purple envelope at Harry, holding it in front of him, but not allowing Harry to take it.  
  
Running a hand through his ever-untidy hair, Harry scrunched up his nose and peered through his glasses. "I won't know unless you let me open it, will I?"  
  
"Less of your cheek, boy!" Uncle Vernon puffed out his large cheeks and seemed to mull over the thought. Somehow, his experiences with wizarding folk left him a little afraid whenever anything seemed to be centred on Harry. Having decided the letter could only be harmless - Harry had failed to mention what a Howler was - he handed the letter rather reluctantly to a surprised Harry. He had expected his uncle to open it, but he wasn't about to complain.  
  
Harry scanned the envelope for clues as to whom it could be from, but none were forthcoming. He didn't recognise the writing on the envelope and had even less idea of the content. Aware that all eyes were on him, he decided to study the letter in great detail, prolonging the suspense for his relatives. There was a faint scent to it and, although he was sure he recognised it, Harry had no idea what it was. Shrugging his shoulders, he turned the letter over in his hands before slowly opening the seal.  
  
He risked a quick glance at the Dursleys, and smirked. Aunt Petunia had edged herself along the back wall, and all he could see of Dudley was his blonde head, as he had taken refuge behind the counter - things like pigs' tails and Ton Tongue Toffee no doubt on his mind. Uncle Vernon was simply glaring at him, but Harry felt sure that were something to suddenly happen, he would find that his uncle was more than ready to leap out of the way.  
  
Frowning, Harry pulled out a small scrap of paper and eyed it suspiciously. There seemed to be nothing magical about it, and yet Harry could think of nothing else that it could be. The only Muggles he knew were the Dursleys and, albeit only a little, Hermione's parents. Turning the paper over in his hands, the only words Harry could see didn't seem to be words at all. In fact, Harry couldn't be sure they were even letters; they were simply swirls of ink doodled across the small scrap of paper.  
  
Frowning even harder, Harry looked at it more closely, wondering if maybe this was Ron or his brothers' idea of a joke. Making Harry spend the remaining part of his holiday with the Dursleys wondering about a few scribbles on a piece of paper was something that the twins would get a real kick out of. Of course the scribbles could have been written in some wizarding language, for all Harry knew. If it were the twins, it was likely to say something along the lines of, "Kick me, I'm stupid," and the paper was probably charmed to stick to his back when he wasn't looking. Although, he'd really expected something more along the lines of never-ending chewing gum that screamed when you closed your jaw, and had the side effect of turning your tongue into a rainbow. He smiled at that thought; he'd have to remember that one for the twins.  
  
"Well then?" Uncle Vernon demanded, his moustache twitching as he cast wary glances around him, as if expecting a wizard to suddenly appear before him. He didn't know, since most witches and wizards who were of age had a licences to Apparate, that wasn't exactly unheard of. Harry also chose not to share this.  
  
"Oh." He placed the paper back into the envelope. "It's from my godfather," Harry said, simply to see the Dursleys' reaction. It was always more amusing than the previous time. Aunt Petunia looked ready to faint, and was clutching at the worktop with whitened knuckles. Dudley had fled the room, making noises that would have fit perfectly with the tail Hagrid had once given him, and, if Uncle Vernon's face was any redder, he would burst a major artery, assuming of course, he hadn't already.  
  
Harry's godfather, Sirius Black, was currently a wanted man in the Wizarding world and, due to the severity of the crime he had been convicted of, he had also appeared on the Muggle news as a dangerous criminal. When he had first heard of Sirius Black, he had discovered that the man had been his parents' best friend, and his betrayal had resulted in their deaths. However, the truth, as Harry had soon discovered, was that Wormtail was actually Voldemort's spy and, although most of the Wizarding world thought the man dead at Sirius' hand, Harry knew he was very much alive. But until that could be proven, Sirius was on the run, and Harry could do nothing but wait.  
  
"Yes. He just wants to make sure that everything's going all right, making sure that I'm getting everything ready for going back to school," Harry continued, trying to hide his smile.  
  
Uncle Vernon clenched his jaw, although it was difficult to see due to his chins, and Harry swore he could see a slight shaking in his uncle's face, as if he was ready to explode. Thinking that if he did, it'd be best to be somewhere else, Harry quickly excused himself, taking pleasure in muttering strange words under his breath as he passed the door Dudley was hiding behind. It didn't matter that his cousin knew Harry wasn't supposed to do magic out of school, Dudley also knew that it wasn't wise to tempt fate.  
  
Closing his bedroom door behind him, Harry sat on his bed, still chuckling. He'd have to be careful how many times he mentioned Sirius, or the threat would start to lose effect. He lay back on his bed, folded his hands behind his head, and thought about the last time he had seen his godfather. Sirius had been sent on an errand for Dumbledore, to go and get help in the form of his old school friends, most notably Remus Lupin. Professor Lupin had been best friend's with Harry's father and Sirius at school, not to mention the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher that Hogwarts had ever seen. Well, in Harry's time there, at least. However, Professor Lupin was also a werewolf, bitten as a child. When this had become public knowledge, Lupin had resigned, knowing that parents would request he be removed from the position. Werewolves weren't known for being friendly.  
  
Sighing, he turned to look at the empty cage in which his snowy owl, Hedwig, usually resided. He had sent her with a letter to Sirius and the Weasleys, and she had yet to return. Harry was hoping that Professor Dumbledore, the headmaster at Hogwarts, would allow him to spend the remainder of his holiday with the Weasleys, and was currently awaiting their reply. And, although he knew that Sirius' reply, if there was one, would be very short, he had felt the need to talk with his godfather.  
  
At the end of the last year, Sirius and many other adults that Harry knew in the wizarding world, including his most hated teacher, Snape, had been sent on 'missions' for Dumbledore. Harry knew that getting in touch with his old friends from school wasn't the only thing that Dumbledore would ask of Sirius, and he knew that whatever was asked of his godfather was likely to be very dangerous. Although what exactly these missions were, Harry had no idea, only that they were moves against Voldemort and therefore very important. It was because of this that his contact with Sirius was sporadic at best, and he wished he could hear something soon.  
  
He also found something slightly depressing about spending his birthday presentless and alone, still having no word from either his own godfather or the Weasleys. Harry had never really known a good birthday until he had gone to Hogwarts, it had always been just another day in the horrid life of living with the Dursleys. Sure, his friends were never actually with him on his birthday, but they were always in touch, and they always would be. Or so he had thought.  
  
As if on cue, there was a tapping at the window. He smiled, moving towards it and opening it to let the two large brown owls in. He knew that had any of the neighbours spotted the owls flying about in broad daylight and entering his window, they would likely be very curious and distressed by the abnormality of it all. He missed the wizarding world. There you could walk about with whiskers and fangs and no one would bat an eye, and owl post was the most common form of communication.  
  
Realising that he was ignoring the owls on his windowsill, he apologised and relieved them of their packages, giving them some water from Hedwig's cage before waving them off again. He smiled as he opened a formal card signed by Professor Dumbledore, his school's Headmaster, and placed it on the bed in front of him. His smile widened as he spotted the large, messy writing of Hogwarts' Gamekeeper, Hagrid. He was someone whom Harry and his friends considered a good friend, with a rather unhealthy obsession with dangerous animals. Harry opened the small handmade card.  
  
Happy Birthday, Harry.  
  
I hope you're having a good holiday. Those Dursleys had best be treating you right. I made you a cake but I didn't want to send it with the owl, so you'll get it when you get back to Hogwarts. See you soon.  
  
All the best,  
  
Hagrid  
  
Harry grimaced. Hagrid was one of the nicest people Harry had ever met, but if there was something he knew for sure, it was to never eat anything the Gamekeeper had made, unless you wanted your jaw stuck together for a long time. A few broken teeth wouldn't be out of the ordinary either.  
  
He smiled, and placed the card on the bed with Dumbledore's and picked up the small book-shaped parcel. He shook his head. Only Hermione could give books almost every birthday and Christmas and still find something 'suitable' for the next one. He pulled off the envelope and opened it carefully, reading the short message. He smiled when he read that Hermione was on holiday in France again, knowing that she had loved it last time and was glad to hear that she would be joining them at The Burrow at the end of the holidays.  
  
Turning over the parcel, he opened it carefully. He tried to make the most of every present he received, as if he was making up for all the presents he had missed out on growing up. He was not surprised to find that it was a book, as its shape had implied. He was, however, surprised to see what the book was. It would definitely come in handy.  
  
"Playing To Win: A Practical Guide To Chess Playing. How To Win When You Least Expect To." Harry turned over the first page to reveal a small hand-written message from Hermione.  
  
Happy Birthday, Harry! Hopefully you'll give Ron a run for his money this year and stop him being so smug. Just don't tell him I said that! And don't forget we have O.W.Ls to start studying for this year!  
  
Love, Hermione  
  
A sudden hoot shook Harry out of his thoughts. He looked up from Hermione's present to see Hedwig and reached out a hand to greet her. The owl, sensing his impatience, dropped two letters on Harry's lap and readily accepted the small treat Harry had managed to procure from the breakfast table. While Hedwig flew into her cage for a drink, Harry quickly opened the first letter, glad to see his godfather's scrawl on the small piece of parchment.  
  
Harry!  
  
Great to hear from you. I get the feeling that there's more to tell than you have done, you've had a rough year and I'm only sorry I can't be there for you. I'm sure you'll understand why this letter is short, rest assured that I'm fine and know that what I'm about to say is for both of our safety. You cannot send me any letters for a while (unless it's an emergency). I won't lie to you. What I'm doing is dangerous and it's best if we don't communicate, by owl or otherwise.  
  
Dumbledore will keep me informed. But, if anything important happens, promise me you'll let me know, otherwise, I'll owl you as soon as it's safe. Keep your eyes open and be careful!  
  
Love,  
  
Snuffles  
  
Slightly upset by the short message, Harry felt his shoulders sag a little. Placing the letter on the bed, he noticed a small arrow pointing off the end of the page and turned it over to find more writing.  
  
You didn't honestly think I'd forgotten your birthday, did you? As if! Happy birthday, Harry, I'm only sorry I've missed every one you've had since we lost your parents and I'm missing this one as well. Just know I'm always thinking of you, especially on special days like this. I've missed out on most of your life, but I promise we'll set it right. I know I'm not around much, but hopefully you understand.  
  
I'd ask you to try to stay out of trouble this year, but something tells me that isn't possible with you! (As if I can lecture you about that!). Just remember to keep your map and cloak handy at all times.  
  
Dumbledore has your present and you'll get it when you're back at school.  
  
I hope to see you soon.  
  
Snuffles   
  
Harry slowly rolled the letter up. He had to admit he was sure Sirius had forgotten his birthday, but he instantly felt shame at even thinking the elder man would forget. He had guessed that Sirius would caution him against sending letters, but a part of him had been so desperate to hear from Sirius and to know that he was all right. He knew Hedwig wasn't exactly camouflaged, being white, but he'd taken the chance and he hoped nothing bad came of it. Giving a small smile at his godfather's code name, he continued to roll up the letter, and tried to think positively.  
  
With anticipation, he opened the second letter, hoping against hope that Ron had good news. Or, at the very least, not more bad news.   
  
Hey Harry!  
  
Dad talked to Dumbledore this morning. You can stay! Can't write long as Charlie just arrived downstairs and I've got to go see what he's got. Bill got me a Niggot (it's a luck charm) he found somewhere, wouldn't tell me where. He's doing stuff about You-Know-Who, but we're not supposed to talk about it 'cause Mum gets all weepy and starts to hug us.  
  
Oh, Happy Birthday, mate! Didn't think we forgot, did you? Not a chance around here, I think Ginny's still got it marked on her calendar with a big love heart (don't tell her I told you that!). I've got you something, but I thought you might prefer to get it when you're here.  
  
We'll come get you tomorrow (Friday) about 5pm. Clean out the fireplace, will ya mate? Only joking! Dad's hiring some Ministry cars, so we can confuse the Muggles by using the door ringer.  
  
Ron   
  
Harry had stood up and begun to pace around the room as he read the letter. He was leaving! Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and one of the greatest Wizards of the time, had said it was okay for him to stay with the Weasleys, and that meant that he wouldn't need to see the Dursleys for another whole year. Maybe he could get Ron to bring one of Fred and George's inventions. After all, it was traditional to leave the Dursleys with a memento of his stay for the summer.  
  
Smiling, he patted Hedwig rather energetically on the head - much to her dismay - and bounded down the stairs. Ignoring the shouts of his aunt and uncle and Dudley ("What's happening?", "What was that?", and "Are we going to die?"), Harry took as much pleasure in telling them that he was leaving as they took in hearing it.  
  
Deciding not to let the Dursleys in on Ron's plan, Harry told them only the first part of the letter. Uncle Vernon took the news about the fireplace rather badly, and began to wander about the house murmuring something about blocking it off and locking Harry outside which, considering the fact that the Weasleys were really arriving by car, wouldn't really matter to him. Dudley took the news as a sign that he could relax, and Aunt Petunia doted on Dudley and ignored Harry as much as always, although with a little more enthusiasm in her step. Harry was so happy to be going that he forgot to be miserable about where he was, and instead he ran up the stairs, intent on finishing his homework before his real holiday began.  
  
He picked up his cards and letters from the bed, deciding to put them straight into his truck in case he forgot them (he doubted he would, but packing made him think happy thoughts of leaving). He turned back to the bed and crossed the room to close the window, knowing it was best to keep Hedwig inside.  
  
Pulling out his schoolbooks once more, deciding he should really finish, he threw back the covers in order to study. Harry climbed into his bed, pulling his quilt over him so that he could easily hide his things.  
  
He decided to finish off his Potions homework. It was the worst of the lot and he wanted to get it over with before he went to The Burrow.  
  
The Polywog Potion.  
  
Answers must be 6 feet long and must contain the following:  
  
Who discovered the Potion? When was it discovered? What is it for? What are the ingredients? And how is the potion made? All answers must be in depth, you will be preparing and testing this potion when you return to school.  
  
Harry groaned. He had had to look through his Potions textbook, scouring it for any mention of the Polywog potion and finally he had come across it in one of the hidden pages. Trust Snape to have set their homework on an invisible page that they had to first find and then ask nicely to tell them the information. Enchanted pages weren't the easiest things in the world to convince of anything, especially when it came to the information that you actually wanted to know. The pages were quite happy to tell you how scruffy you looked and how messy your hair was, so much so that Harry was pretty sure that they must have the same personality as a wizarding mirror.  
  
He had eventually had to bribe the page into giving him the information. Although how he was going to find periwinkle ink in the first place he didn't know - how did you get ink from a periwinkle? he wondered absently, but quickly got back to work. He wasn't sure what magical pages were capable of, but if they could read minds then he was pretty sure that his information was about to disappear.  
  
Luckily, the page seemed unable to read his mind and he was able to continue with his homework.  
In 1643, Terrance Powderoot discovered the Polywog potion in a disastrous attempt at creating the Polyjuice potion. Powderoot was a known alchemist with a high allergy to Filly leaves and a sneezing fit quickly turned into one of the greatest discoveries of the century.  
  
The Polywog potion allows a witch or wizard to take on the form of an animal, much in the same way as Polyjuice potion will exchange the identity of a witch or wizard but also similar in the way one can become an Animagi. However, the results are much more temporary, than both of the above, the longest recorded transformation lasting a total of twenty minutes.  
  
The ingredients.  
  
Harry rubbed his eyes and resisted the urge to stop writing. He continued to write well into the afternoon, and into the early evening, stopping only when his aunt called him to tidy up the garden before it got dark. And, of course, tidying up the garden soon turned into dusting the living room, cooking the dinner, cleaning the kitchen and the list went on.  
  
It was late into the evening when Harry returned to his room, exhausted from his rigorous cleaning - his Aunt had made him do more work in just a few hours than she usually made him do in a day. But he had done it all without complaint, his only thought being the Weasleys' arrival the next morning.  
  
Finishing off his essay, he quickly went over it again, making sure that everything was correct and there was nothing ambiguous that Snape could claim that it didn't say what it said. He sighed and picked up his Charms textbook, knowing that this class in particular was going to get harder over the coming year. As would Defence Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration. However, having been bored for most of his summer, he had already done all his homework (only putting off his Potions essay). He was ready to start reading all of his texts, unfortunately he required a trip to Diagon Alley to get them, and, as much as the idea of the Dursleys visiting Diagon Alley amused him, he knew that was less likely to happen than Hermione failing her O.W.L's. Besides, he would never wish the Dursleys on the wizarding world.  
  
Turning himself over onto his stomach, Harry reached out to flip on the lamp, groaning when he realised he'd have to get up to switch off the main light. He hated not being able to use magic over the holidays. Moving back to the bed, he made himself comfortable. As he shifted again, he failed to notice the purple envelope that fell from his pocket to float gently to the ground, completely forgotten.  
  
~x~x~x~x~x~  
  
End of Part One 


	2. Chapter 2: Catching the Floo

Harry Potter and the Eye of Tae Nan  
By Kyizi  
  
Disclaimer: I own none of the main characters and only a few of the minor ones. J.K. Rowling created these characters, and as far as I know, they are still her property. Only the story is mine.  
  
Rating: If you can read the books then you can read this.  
  
Timeline/Spoilers: Starts in the summer holidays after the fourth book and will continue through Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts. Therefore, there will be spoilers for all four books.  
  
Notes: I'm attempting to write this in the same style as J.K. Rowling writes the books. I'm basically trying to write, in essence the next book. Well, where my imagination takes it at least! I realise that to do what she will is an impossibility, but I'm just having a bit of fun and *need* to get this out of my head! You may notice that a lot of the first chapter will simple rehash the last book, but as I'm planning on integrating it all into my story, I felt it needed to be done.  
  
Summary: Harry and his friends are back at Hogwarts for their fifth year. But with Voldemort back, what lengths will they have to go to to protect the ones they love? Cemara stones, Atlantis, interschool exchanges and Animagi, what can possibly go wrong.?  
  
Feedback: Please let me know how I'm doing as I'm attempting a completely different style and pointers, praise, tips and ideas are all welcome, as is constructive criticism. Please send no flames.  
  
Email address: kyizifanfic@hotmail.com  
  
Yahoo Group:   
  
Notes: A big thanks to my betas Heliona and Loriel who spent ages trawling through this! Love ya! *mwah*  
  
~x~x~x~x~x~  
  
Part Two  
  
Catching the Floo  
  
~x~x~x~x~x~  
  
Harry was pacing his bedroom floor. All in all, it could be considered a typical day at Privet Drive, except for the complete and utter silence. There was no Dudley plodding around, moaning that he didn't have enough toys or chocolate, no Aunt Petunia pottering about the kitchen, and most out of the ordinary, no Uncle Vernon huffing and puffing about the living room. No, things were perfectly out of the ordinary.  
  
The reason Harry was pacing was simply because the three Dursleys were seated in the kitchen having tea and cakes. They were acting as if everything was perfectly normal. And that just wasn't normal! Harry checked his watch again, and again. But no, the small, slightly crooked hands of Dudley's old watch were still in the same place. It had stopped. He sighed and wound it again, estimating how much time had passed in order to set it - he felt sure it must have been days.  
  
Walking around the room again, he made sure that his rickety old cupboard was empty before casting a longing glance towards Hedwig's cage. Despite the fact that he couldn't have a conversation with the snowy owl, Harry was sure that she knew exactly what he was saying and sympathised with him. He had sent her to Ron's house earlier in the day, knowing that she hated to be locked in the cage, which is exactly where she would have had to stay until the Weasleys arrived. With nothing to do, however, he found himself missing her company.  
  
Harry glanced again at his watch. No, even with his hopeful estimation in setting it, it still read five minutes to go. Tapping it to make sure it was still ticking, he sighed and sat down on his bed, only to grunt in frustration, stand and start pacing again. In the far corner of his room, next to his wonderful Firebolt, lay his trunk, which (after some more huffing and puffing from his uncle) was now filled with his school things, his homework and school robes. Sighing again at the time - still four minutes to go - Harry slumped to the floor, knowing that he could just go downstairs, but he was unwilling to spend any longer than was necessary in the Dursleys' company.  
  
Frowning, he noticed something lying on the floor by his bed, and bent to pick it up. Leaning back against his bed, he was about to open the purple envelope again, feeling compelled to stare at the illegible scribbles, when there was a tap at his window. He folded the envelope and placed it in his pocket before opening the window for Hedwig. He patted the owl on the head, completely aware that she was more than a little disgruntled at being back in Privet Drive, and removed the letter from her claw.  
  
Harry,  
  
Slight change of plans. There's a bit of a disaster at home so we can't bring the Ministry cars like we'd hoped. So you really will have to clean out the fireplace! Dad's having you connected to the Floo network for the afternoon again and someone will come get you. You'll have to wait another 1/2 hr as well.  
  
Sorry, mate.  
  
Ron  
  
P.S. Someone will come meet you in the Dursleys' living room and make sure you get here okay, but when you see what's going on here, you might want to go straight back!   
  
Harry frowned at his friend's ambiguous note and shrugged. He figured that whatever it was, it couldn't be any worse than staying at Privet Drive. Besides, Harry had seen the Weasleys, he knew them; they were like a second family to him. Whatever it was that was wrong, they'd get through it.  
  
Hearing a hoot behind him, Harry turned to smile at Hedwig. The owl was cocking her head slightly to the side, as if asking permission to leave the house again. Harry walked towards her, holding out an arm and taking her to the window.  
  
"Off you go. I would leave now if I could, too." With a small hoot, Hedwig was soaring through the air, back towards The Burrow. Harry looked after her for a long time, wishing she were big enough to carry him all the way to The Burrow itself.  
  
Sighing, he gently closed the window and sat on his bed, resisting the urge to scream. He was used to places being silent, he often had to work in complete silence at school, but he was not used to the Dursleys being quiet when they were expecting abnormal visitors.  
  
Glancing again at his trunk, he decided to find his birthday present from Hermione and start reading it. After all, it was never a bad idea to know a little more about chess when visiting the Weasleys and, if he wanted to catch Ron by surprise, he'd have to hide the book from him, which meant no reading it at The Burrow. After a few moments of searching, he found it and returned to his bed, lying on his back and opening the book.  
  
Harry skimmed through the introduction, thinking it was best if he read that first, but his impatience soon got the better of him and he prepared to open the book at the first chapter. There was something strange about the book. For the first time, he was actually feeling rather competitive. With this book he might actually beat Ron. It was never really something that had bothered him much in the past, but now that there was a chance that he might win, Harry was looking forward to playing his best friend. Smiling to himself, he began to read the first chapter, "Preparing The Perfect Pawns."  
  
BANG!  
  
Harry jumped, almost falling off the bed. There was a sudden scampering in the hallway quickly followed by a small scream from downstairs - Aunt Petunia. Harry could soon hear Uncle Vernon huffing and puffing again. Things were back to normal, whatever had happened. Shaking his head, he placed his book back in his trunk and headed to his bedroom door, deciding that he should investigate. If nothing else, it would give him something to do for the next twenty-two minutes and forty-nine seconds, forty-eight.not that he was counting.  
  
Running down the stairs as quietly as he could, Harry made his way to the living room, not at all prepared for what was there to greet him. He stifled a giggle at the predicament Dudley had got himself into. The large boy had somehow managed to scare himself into an extremely small chest by the window, where he was currently jammed half in, half out. His flabby legs were waving in the air with a ridiculous flubbing sound, accompanied by pig-like squeals coming from his mouth which was currently drowning in his fat somewhere inside the trunk.  
  
Turning his gaze to his aunt and uncle, he noticed that they, like Dudley, were acting as normal as could be expected. Aunt Petunia was currently edging her way along the wall, desperate to run across the room to her 'poor little Duddykins', but terrified to move into the path of the two visitors. Uncle Vernon was, however, edging away from the men, huffing and puffing with inaudible words.  
  
"Ridiculous.mumble-mumble-mumble.not normal.mumble-mumble-mumble. Can't even use a door? .huffle-puffle. appearing out of thin air! .mumble-mumble. Why I've a mind to."  
  
Harry smirked and walked further into the room, his eyes still wandering occasionally to Dudley, finding the flubbing of his huge legs a strangely compelling sight. He shook his head at the antics of the Dursleys and walked straight past his Uncle and reached a hand out to the younger, and smaller, of the two ginger haired men.  
  
"Hey there, Harry!"  
  
"Hey, Charlie, Bill." He smiled as the eldest Weasley also extended a hand. "I wasn't expecting either of you. I wasn't expecting anyone for at least another twenty minutes," Harry said, offering them a seat, much to his aunt's dismay. She had finally made her way to her 'precious Dudley-wudley' and was attempting, with the help of Uncle Vernon, to pull the boy from the trunk.  
  
"Couldn't wait to get out of the house. Hope you don't mind," Bill said, smiling a little. It was obvious to Harry that there was something still going on at the Weasleys', but he didn't dare ask what it was. If it were Ron, or possibly the twins, he would have had no problem asking them, but he barely knew Bill or Charlie, and he was uncomfortable even thinking of asking them.  
  
"Yeah, things are a little, eh, tense in the house at the moment, but I'm sure you'll see for yourself when you get there." Charlie grinned and winked at Harry. "You get used to it, but that doesn't mean you want to stay around and watch."  
  
Bill snorted. "Well, you were worse!"  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Okay, okay," Bill relented. "Not worse, but almost as bad. Together, you were a nightmare."  
  
Now more confused than ever, Harry was about to ask when there was a thump behind him. He snickered as he saw his aunt and uncle lying on the floor, their legs in the air. They had obviously pulled rather hard, but to no avail. The chest, despite their respective sizes, had decided it wanted to eat Dudley.  
  
"I could get him out of there, if."  
  
"No! Absolutely not!" Uncle Vernon yelled and Harry flinched, cursing his uncle under his breath for his manners, or lack thereof, towards Bill. He didn't care how the Dursleys acted towards him, he was used to it, but when they treated the Weasleys like this, he felt utterly embarrassed. He was sure that the large burns on Charlie's bare arms weren't helping them to feel safe with the man, nor the fact that Bill had long hair and wore an earring. It was a different one than Harry remembered. A chip from a dragon tooth if Harry wasn't mistaken, and, given his close proximity to a rather large Hungarian Horntail in his previous year at Hogwarts, Harry was sure that he wasn't. Perhaps Charlie had got his newest burns removing that part of the tooth.  
  
Deciding it was best not to mention dragons to his Aunt and Uncle, (they'd only be disappointed he hadn't been eaten), Harry decided on a different topic of conversation to that which he had on his mind. Ignoring the rest of his uncle's tirade about abnormality, Harry turned back to the eldest Weasley brothers and smiled as best he could. "So, when can we leave?"  
  
Charlie snickered and, despite the look Bill was sending his brother's way, Harry was sure that the eldest brother was smirking as well.  
  
"We won't be connected for another ten minutes, so not for a little while yet," Bill said, smiling at him. "Not too long, don't worry."  
  
Harry refrained from mentioning that any time spent with the Dursleys was too long, and instead took a seat on the edge of the small sofa that Bill and Charlie were sitting on. The three of them looked across the room trying, in vain, not to smile at the rather military style rescue mission that the Dursleys were putting into effect to rescue Dudley from the evil clutches of their window chest.  
  
"Pull, Petunia, pull!"  
  
"I am pulling, Vernon!"  
  
Harry snickered, hearing the moans of pain that Dudley was emitting. It was obvious that his uncle, being about ten times the size of his aunt, was pulling on Dudley's right leg a lot harder then his aunt was pulling on the left. It almost looked as if his right leg was longer than his left, or would be, when he was finally freed.  
  
"Are you sure - "  
  
"They won't let you help them," Harry said to Bill. "Besides, watching this is much more fun."  
  
Charlie laughed at that, earning himself a glare from Uncle Vernon. Harry's eyes narrowed. He was getting angrier by the second and, for what seemed like the hundredth time this summer, he couldn't help but wish that he was allowed to do magic over the holidays. He was completely mortified by his uncle's behaviour.  
  
Suddenly, the watch on Charlie's wrist began a small countdown. 20, 19, 18, 17. Harry smiled and stood up, surprised that watching the floor show the Dursleys had provided had taken up most of ten minutes, but glad that he was about to leave Privet Drive for another year. Remembering that his things were still upstairs in his room, he frowned. He was loath to leave the Weasley brothers with the Dursleys, but he needed his things.  
  
"Where's your stuff, Harry?" Charlie asked with a smile. Harry instantly relaxed and replied, glad when Charlie quickly exited the room, Apparating back a moment later with Harry's things. There was a loud squeak from behind him.  
  
Turning to see what Bill and Charlie were trying so hard not to laugh at, Harry snorted. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had succeeded in freeing Dudley from the trunk, but when Charlie had Apparated back into the room, they had obviously had another shock. Now, in place of Dudley's head, the trunk had swallowed Uncle Vernon's behind. The grown-up version of Dudley was now huffing and puffing and wriggling in the trunk, while Dudley wailed and Aunt Petunia pulled and pulled to free him.  
  
Bill raised a hand to help, but Charlie was quick to stop him. "They don't want any of our abnormal help, now, do they Harry?" His face was serious, but there was a definite twinkle in his eye.  
  
"No, no, I'm sure they don't." Harry grinned, and picked up Hedwig's cage, nodding a thank you when Bill gave him a small sprinkling of Floo powder.  
  
"The fireplace should be connected now, Harry. Remember to keep your hands and arms safe by your side."  
  
"Jeez, Bill, you sound like Mum." Charlie rolled his eyes and prepared to Apparate when Bill stopped him.  
  
"Didn't the twins give us a gift for Harry's cousin?"  
  
Harry was immediately interested, but had already sprinkled the powder and announced 'The Burrow'. The room began to spin, and the last thing he saw was Dudley turning blue, while his face began to morph into something that rather resembled a horse. Trying not to laugh, Harry struggled to keep himself still, his elbow scraping against the rough wall beside him. He was still struggling with his laughter when the world began to still again.  
  
Harry sneezed, and rubbed his eyes, happy when his vision of The Burrow cleared. Without getting the chance to step out of the fireplace, the force of the trip threw him onto the floor. Groaning and pulling himself up, Harry quickly dusted himself off, cleaned his glasses, and smiled. It felt good to be back. He glanced around, the homely feel of the Weasleys' house making his grin widen. He walked through the kitchen, glancing up at the clock to see where the Weasleys were. Mr. Weasley and Percy were apparently still at work, and Bill and Charlie were 'visiting'. Harry laughed at that, knowing that no one in their right mind ever wanted to visit the Dursleys. Looking at the other clock hands, Harry frowned, not sure what to make of it.  
  
There was a noise to his left, and Harry cautiously walked toward it, peering through the opened back door. There was no one there, but the sound was louder. It was coming from outside. He was sure that whatever Ron, Bill, and Charlie had been talking about was about to reveal itself, but Harry wasn't sure what to expect.  
  
Frowning, Harry walked through the open back door and looked into the large garden. It took a moment to focus on exactly what was happening, but as soon he did, his eyes widened. He wasn't sure what he had expected, but whatever it was, nothing could have prepared him for what greeted him.  
  
~x~x~x~x~x~  
  
End of Part Two 


	3. Chapter 3: Hurricane Ginny

Harry Potter and the Eye of Tae Nan  
By Kyizi  
  
Disclaimer: I own none of the main characters and only a few of the minor ones. J.K. Rowling created these characters, and as far as I know, they are still her property. Only the story is mine.  
  
Rating: If you can read the books then you can read this.  
  
Timeline/Spoilers: Starts in the summer holidays after the fourth book and will continue through Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts. Therefore, there will be spoilers for all four books.  
  
Notes: I'm attempting to write this in the same style as J.K. Rowling writes the books. I'm basically trying to write, in essence the next book. Well, where my imagination takes it at least! I realise that to do what she will is an impossibility, but I'm just having a bit of fun and *need* to get this out of my head! You may notice that a lot of the first chapter will simple rehash the last book, but as I'm planning on integrating it all into my story, I felt it needed to be done.  
  
Summary: Harry and his friends are back at Hogwarts for their fifth year. But with Voldemort back, what lengths will they have to go to to protect the ones they love? Cemara stones, Atlantis, interschool exchanges and Animagi, what can possibly go wrong.?  
  
Feedback: Please let me know how I'm doing as I'm attempting a completely different style and pointers, praise, tips and ideas are all welcome, as is constructive criticism. Please send no flames.  
  
Email address: kyizifanfic@hotmail.com  
  
Yahoo Group:   
  
Notes: A big thanks to my betas Heliona and Loriel who spent ages trawling through this! Love ya! *mwah*  
  
(ff.net was having issues with the spacing in this one, so I had to double them, sorry if it's annoying!)  
  
~x~x~x~x~x~  
  
Part Three  
  
Hurricane Ginny  
  
~x~x~x~x~x~  
  
Stepping out into the garden, Harry stared, wide-eyed, at the scene before him. The Weasleys were notorious for their temper, but what greeted Harry definitely took him by surprise. The garden was in a state of uproar. The garden gnomes were scurrying out through the fence in droves, the flowers all seemed to be standing at attention, as if awaiting for the inevitable, the garden furniture was all lying haphazardly in one corner, looking rather like it had been thrown there, but it was the scene in the centre of the garden that had his full attention.   
  
Knowing the Weasley twins' love of mischief, it did not surprise Harry that they were in the thick of it. What did surprise him was that they were currently hanging upside down in mid-air, bobbing up and down in such a way that their heads were bouncing off the ground. The Weasley twins were identical down to the last freckle, but Harry had grown used to telling them apart, however, from this distance, Harry had no idea which twin was which. Their arms were flailing about as they shouted at their mother to help them. Mrs. Weasley, for her part, was dividing her attention between consoling the twins, trying to get Ron out of the way, and attempting to resolve the situation.  
  
However, what really surprised Harry was that, in the centre of the garden, floating a little off the ground, surrounded by a whirl of wind, was none other than Ginny Weasley. Her hair flew about her, her freckles seemed to be pulsing, her hands were clenched at her sides, and her face and eyes were currently so red they were clashing with her deep ginger hair. He wasn't sure, but Harry thought she seemed to be glowing ever so slightly, a silver light seemed to pulse about her, making her hair and eyes sparkle.  
  
Harry stared at her with his mouth agape as she continued to wreak havoc on her surroundings. He had heard that Ginny had the worst temper of all the Weasleys, her brothers swore testament to it. But this was nothing to what he had expected. How could it be? All he had ever seen of the youngest Weasley was when she stuttered and blushed, dropped her elbow in the butter and made her excuses to leave when he was around. The only time he had ever spent with her, aside from that, was during her first year at Hogwarts when she had been under the spell of Tom Riddle's diary.  
  
"Bit of a spitfire, isn't she?"  
  
Harry jumped a little, and turned to see Charlie and Bill standing beside him. Charlie winked at him before grimacing as he watched Fred's head take a rather nasty sting from a nearby flower. Bill had already moved further into the garden and was heading towards Mrs. Weasley, who looked to be getting rather angry herself.  
  
Harry grimaced as both twins began to sway from side to side, swinging dangerously close to each other. They seemed to be doing acrobatics in order to stop from hitting each other, and that still didn't seem to help.  
  
"Don't worry," Charlie said, patting him on his back. "You should be all right, it's the rest of us I'm worried about."  
  
"What-what happened?"  
  
"The twins were being, well, themselves." Charlie shook his head and smirked a little. "They charmed all her animals to sing to her and charmed her soap, turning her red. Although, to be honest, if it didn't clash so much with her hair, I don't think she'd be quite so mad." The twins seemed to have lost control of their legs as they began to do some kind of complicated tap routines, still hanging upside down. "Or maybe she would. Also, they can't seem to make up the reverse charm."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"Yes, oh."  
  
Harry watched as Bill cautiously approached his sister in an attempt to calm her, but, before he was so much as a few feet away, he flew backwards and landed on the ground with a thud. If there was one thing Harry was sure of, it was that he would make an effort never to make the youngest Weasley angry.   
  
"Harry, dear!" Turning at the tense sound of Mrs. Weasley's voice, he noticed the twins fall to the ground.   
  
"Ouch!"  
  
The garden was filled with silence, a hushed, eerie kind of awkwardness. The twins were still lying on the ground, groaning and rubbing their heads, no doubt dizzy from the sudden change in both altitude and orientation. They were staring at Ginny with a mix of anger and fear, but neither said a word. Ron, Bill, and Charlie looked relieved and, to be honest, Harry agreed with them. It was unnerving to see someone use so much power, to seem to be able to concentrate it, and yet at the same time not be in control of it.   
  
The wild look was gone from Ginny's eyes, and she stared at Harry in horror. Harry shifted his feet, feeling more than a little embarrassed. Ginny had started to speak to him more last year at Hogwarts and, although she still seemed a little hesitant, things had been a lot less awkward. What Harry saw in her eyes now was the same look that eleven-year-old Ginny had given him the first time she had been faced with him. He didn't like it.  
  
Mrs. Weasley collected herself and pulled out her wand, casting a spell on Fred to stop the swelling on his head, no doubt a result of the sting he had received a few moments earlier. No one else dared to move.  
  
"Fred! George! I want you to apologise to your sister this instant!"  
  
"But she's the one that's been."  
  
"What? You can't be serious!"  
  
".flying us around the garden for the last two hours!"  
  
"She was the one who made us."  
  
"Enough! Virginia will be dealt with, but I want you to apologise now!" There was silence and Harry became aware of a chorus of voices coming from upstairs. When he listened, the words became clearer and clearer. ".His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad." Harry began to blush, as Ginny looked away in embarrassment, she was bright red from head to toe, although he supposed she would look the same despite the spell.  
  
"And for goodness sakes will you silence those silly toys!"  
  
The twins stood and muttered an angry 'Sorry' to their sister, but scurried into the house the minute Ginny glared back at them. A few moments later, the noise inside stopped, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted was to have that playing in the background. Bill had pulled himself to his feet and was brushing off his trousers as he approached his sister. After a short talk with Ginny, Bill stepped back, allowing her to approach their mother.  
  
Harry watched as Ginny received a lecture from Mrs. Weasley, all the while staring at her hands as she fidgeted with them. He couldn't help but feel that he was intruding on a family moment, something that he shouldn't be present for. As much as he felt that the Weasleys were family, the situation made him uncomfortable.   
  
As if sensing his unease, Charlie tugged at his sleeve and motioned to the kitchen. Nodding, and offering the elder Weasley a small smile, he followed and entered the kitchen. The Weasleys' house seemed quiet and small in comparison to the scene that had greeted him in the garden.   
  
"Sorry 'bout that. Wasn't exactly what we were expecting to come home to either, but I remember this all too well. That's why we agreed to come get you. Got us out of the house again." Charlie smiled, and Harry took a seat next to him at the table.  
  
"How is.I mean, how is everything going?" Harry desperately wanted to ask Charlie about his godfather, about the war, about their part in it, about anything to do with Voldemort, but he couldn't. He knew that all the Weasleys that had left school were helping Dumbledore with his fight against Voldemort, a fight that he desperately wished he could be a part of. He knew that even if he had asked, Charlie could not have told him anything.  
  
"It's okay," Charlie said, before laughing a little morbidly. "Okay, it's not okay. Harry, you're old enough to know, and you've been through enough to know that everything isn't okay. But we're fighting, and it's difficult, but it's real. We're making a difference. And we can only hope that, in the end, it matters."  
  
Harry nodded, unsure what he could possibly say to Charlie. There was nothing. Harry looked at the older man again and smiled. "Say hello to Sirius for me when you see him?"   
  
"I will. Oh, and Harry, there's something you need to know about Ginny."   
  
"There's more?"  
  
Charlie laughed and ruffled Harry's already messy hair. "There's a lot more, but I'm sure you'll find all that out on your own." Charlie shook his head and leaned forward. "What I was going to say was, Ginny knows about Sirius."  
  
Harry frowned. "Oh. H-how?"   
  
"It's okay, she took a while to get used to it, but everything's okay. She walked into Dad's office when we were having a meeting. We were all there, and she freaked a bit. Sirius had a word with her and she seems okay about it."  
  
"Sirius spoke to her?"  
  
Charlie smiled. "Yes, he did. But don't ask me what he said, only he and Ginny know that."  
  
"Oh."  
  
Hearing voices behind him, Harry turned to see the rest of the Weasleys enter, including Mr. Weasley and Percy, who had just Apparated from work. Percy was scowling at Ginny, but wisely keeping his distance, and Mr. Weasley appeared to be grinning.   
  
"Now then, Ginny, let's see what we can do about this blushing problem you seem to have at the moment." Mr. Weasley chuckled at Ginny's glare. Unlike Mrs. Weasley, who was short and slightly round, Mr. Weasley was a tall, thin, slightly balding man with a strange fascination for all things Muggle. And he also seemed to be the only Weasley that wasn't currently afraid to tease his daughter. He looked over and the table and smiled widely. "Hello there, Harry! Nice to have you with us again."  
  
Nodding to the living room, he followed Ginny through, and Harry couldn't help but notice the worn-down, sad look that seemed to be hiding in the back of his eyes. In the instant that he had stopped smiling at Harry, he seemed to age about ten years and Harry didn't like it.  
  
"C'mon, Harry, let's go up to my room. Hermione's coming over in a few weeks. We should send her a letter to let her know you're here."  
  
"Oh, another letter to Hermione?" Bill teased, sitting next to Charlie, who hit him.  
  
"Leave our little brother alone. I remember when you were sending letters to Monica McGonagall all summer."  
  
"Leave your brother alone, Monica was a lovely girl," Mrs. Weasley fussed before heading back out into the garden to sort out the mess.  
  
Ron looked horrified. "McGonagall as in."  
  
Charlie smirked as Bill pushed him off his chair. "As in Minerva McGonagall's niece."  
  
"You dated McGonagall's niece?" Ron asked his brother incredulously.  
  
"What? She was hot!" Bill winked and Charlie laughed at their brother's face. Harry smiled but couldn't help agreeing with Ron. There was something about Bill dating their stony-faced teacher's niece that was just wrong.  
  
"Wasn't she a Slytherin, too?" Charlie asked, laughing as Bill jokingly drew his wand.  
  
"What?" Ron's eyes widened in horror and he shook his head. "If it wasn't for the hair I'd swear we weren't brothers." With that he turned and stalked out of the room, Harry trailing after him.   
  
He smiled at Ginny as she stood at the fireplace, gritting her teeth. She was no longer red, which Harry supposed was a good thing, however, she was now purple, and she didn't seem happy about it. Ginny smiled a little and turned back to her father who was mumbling, ".fascinating really.if only Professor Snape knew how well they'd listened to him.hmmm.fascinating.." By the time Harry closed the door behind him, Ginny was blue, but her eyes seemed to be getting redder by the minute.   
  
Ron shuddered, and began to climb the narrow, creaky stairs to the top of his house. Harry followed his friend up the stairs, aware that Ron was also taller that he remembered. Harry had hoped that his growth this summer would make him as tall as his best friend, but it didn't look like Ron was going to stop growing until he had at least matched Percy. Ron's bedroom was on the top floor of the rickety old house, right underneath their haunted attic, which meant that he had to deal with the ghoul making a lot of noise. But ghoul or no, Harry loved the Weasleys' house.  
  
"Dunno what the twins thought they were doing, getting Ginny all worked up like that." Ron said, jumping a little as a small *POP!* came from the twins' room as they passed. "Even I know better than to make her angry. She's creepy, she is. Her eyes go all red, and she flies, and goes all sparkly and, did you see that wind about her?" Ron shook his head and Harry frowned. He'd thought her eyes going red was part of the potion the twins had given her, but apparently it wasn't.  
  
Harry smiled as Ron opened the door to his room, the familiar, yet near- blinding orange of the walls hitting him full force. Ron's favourite Quidditch team, the Chudley Cannons, still decorated the room and Harry watched as they zipped around on their broomsticks, playing and waving at him. He loved wizard pictures. They moved as if the events were playing on a television. Harry saw Pig, Ron's owl, jumping about in his cage, and smiled. It was nice to know that some things didn't change.   
  
"Look!" Ron said and Harry turned to see him holding up dress robes of a dark purple cloth. "Twins gave me them, said I was embarrassing when I showed up with those horrible dress robes last year."  
  
Harry smiled, knowing that the twins had bought Ron's robes due to a request he had made of them. After co-winning the Tri-Wizard tournament last year, Harry had been the only surviving winner but hadn't felt right keeping the money. He had enough, and keeping it would have made him feel like he was being paid for letting Cedric die. So, instead, he had given the money to the twins, requesting that they keep making their practical jokes (a line of goods that they called Weasley Wizard Wheezes) and buy Ron some decent dress robes (his were awful and had been all frilly).  
  
"They're great," he said, smiling.  
  
Sitting on his trunk, Charlie or Bill must have sent it up the stairs, Harry watched as Ron began a letter to Hermione. Harry still wasn't sure what to make of everything he'd seen and heard today. To be honest, he was rather uncomfortable about the whole thing. Ginny was Ron's younger sister and he had hard time thinking about the power she seemed to possess. He knew that all wizards and witches had that power, but he also knew that most of them had trouble using it without a wand. He could help wondering where Ginny had learned to do this. There was also the matter of the conversation Sirius had had with Ginny, he wasn't sure what to make of that. Harry had a hard enough time talking to his godfather himself, he wasn't sure how he felt about Ginny getting to spend time with him.   
  
He sighed, and turned back to Ron, who was waving the piece of parchment at him. Shaking away his thoughts, Harry walked to the desk and added a few lines to Ron's letter and decided not to think about it. He still had about a month left of his holiday and he was determined to have a good time.  
*  
"If nothing else, you de-gnomed the garden, Gin," Mr. Weasley said, winking across the table at his daughter. Despite having finally been returned to her normal colouring, Ginny was turning slightly pink, obviously embarrassed by her earlier behaviour.  
  
The entire Weasley family, plus Harry were sitting around two large tables in the now tidy back garden. The large meal was almost over and Harry was feeling more full than he had been since his last meal at Hogwarts.  
  
"Everyone done?" Bill asked. At the consensus of nods, he pulled out his wand and sent the dishes into the kitchen. He glanced across the table at his mother, who nodded, and Harry felt instantly fearful at the looks that had suddenly appeared on everyone's faces. Before he could ask Ron what was going on, Bill and Charlie waved their wands and suddenly a large cake and a small pile of presents appeared on the table. There was a chorus of "Happy Birthday, Harry!" and he felt his face flush. After all the excitement of the day, he had completely forgotten that Ron had mentioned having something for him.  
  
"Go on, mate, blow out the candles!" Jerking back to attention, Harry smiled and stood up in order to see over the cake. He felt a bit silly standing up in front of everyone, but it wasn't long before everyone else was standing as well and Harry was thankful that they knew him so well. He closed his eyes and prepared to blow out the candles when he heard Ginny, who was on his right side, whisper, "Make a wish." It was something that Harry hadn't thought of, but the instant she said the words he wished to see Sirius alive and well, and free, before blowing out the candles.  
  
There was a cheer, and Harry looked down the table at Mrs. Weasley, who was smiling at him with a look she often sent in the direction of her own children and again, Harry was happy to be a surrogate Weasley.  
  
"Presents!" Ron cried and Harry turned to face him with a grin. Shaking his head, Harry sat down as Bill sent the cake back into the kitchen so that they could all see across the table. Harry smiled and opened his presents one by one. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had given him some clothes that he was always grateful for, considering that he had grown up with Dudley hand-me- downs. Bill had given him a Pernot, which was a charm for good health.  
  
"Considering the amount of time you've managed to injure yourself this last year, I thought it might come in handy!"  
  
Charlie had given him a key ring with what looked suspiciously like a dragon tooth. "It's from that Hungarian Horntail. Thought you could use it for luck!" Harry smiled. Charlie had a weird sense of luck; all he thought of when he pictured that dragon was a near death experience.  
  
He smiled and turned to the next present, which was rather large, and from the looks on Fred and George's faces when he picked it up, he had a feeling it was a present from the twins. He eyed the parcel suspiciously before shaking it a little.  
  
"Don't do that!" both twins cried, jumping from their seats, and Harry almost dropped the present in surprise.  
  
"Just, be careful," Fred said, as they took their seats again.  
  
"Don't worry, Harry, it won't bite!" George said with a smirk. Shaking his head and figuring that the twins were unlikely to give him anything too bad in front of their parents, especially after what they had done to Ginny earlier, he cautiously opened the present.  
  
There was a loud bang and Harry coughed as a puff of orange smoke surrounded him. He took a moment as the mist cleared and blinked before taking his glasses off and wiping them clean. After a moment, the entire table burst out laughing and he frowned.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Well now, Harry," Mr. Weasley chuckled. "Looks like you're an honorary Weasley after all!"  
  
Harry frowned more and turned to question Ron, but his friend had fallen onto the ground he was laughing so hard, so instead he turned to Ginny. The youngest Weasley was laughing at him, but seemed composed enough to answer.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Y-your hair!" she exclaimed, reaching a hand up to tug at the strands. "It's ginger."  
  
Harry laughed and shook his head. "Can I see?"  
  
Charlie pulled out his wand and a mirror appeared in front of him. Harry looked into it and began to laugh. He might feel like a Weasley at times, but he was glad he didn't have the hair. It really did look comical.  
  
"That's not all," Ginny whispered to him. Turning to look at her, he frowned and she pointed to the twins' present, before bringing her finger to her mouth and indicating to be quiet about it in front of her parents. Taking a look inside the box, almost afraid that it would do something else to him, he spotted a few smaller boxes at the bottom.  
  
"It's more from Weasley Wizard Wheezes," Ginny whispered.  
  
He looked across the table at Fred and George and mouthed a thank you, before turning to the last two presents on the table. There was one from Ron and one from Ginny. Deciding to open his best friend's present last, he picked up the gift marked from Ginny. It was a small box, and he made quick business of the wrapping before opening it. Suddenly a big, round, red clown nose jumped out of the box and attached to his nose. He pulled at it to take it off, and it screamed. The entire table began to laugh, and looking in the mirror again, he couldn't help but laugh himself. With the bright orange hair and the big red nose, added with the fact that his face was flushed, he was a very amusing sight.  
  
"Way to go, Gin!" Fred exclaimed.  
  
"You'll be one of us in no time," George laughed.  
  
Harry turned to Ginny, who was turning red again. She turned to Charlie, who nodded and muttered a small spell and the nose fell back into the box.  
  
"The spell to take it off is in the box," Ginny said, and turned away, the shyness that Harry had been glad to see the back of, returning.  
  
"Thank you," he said and turned back to the table, picking up Ron's gift. It was a square box and he opened it a little slower than the others. It was a chess set. Nothing too fancy, just a small set with tiny pieces that were all squeaking at him.  
  
"Sorry, it's not a big set, but I thought you could practice. Bill charmed the whites to play by themselves, so you'll be able to play on your own. Make things more interesting when I beat you next time."  
  
Harry smiled thinking of Hermione's present. "You might be surprised."  
  
The rest of the evening went by quickly. They ate cake, and then played a quick game of Quidditch until the light faded. By the end of the evening, Harry was exhausted, but happier than he had been all summer, and he collapsed into bed, falling asleep only moments later.  
~x~x~x~x~x~  
  
End of Part Three 


	4. Chapter 4: The Familiar Stranger

Harry Potter and the Eye of Tae Nan  
By Kyizi  
  
Disclaimer: I own none of the main characters and only a few of the minor ones. J.K. Rowling created these characters, and as far as I know, they are still her property. Only the story is mine.  
  
Rating: If you can read the books then you can read this.  
  
Timeline/Spoilers: Starts in the summer holidays after the fourth book and will continue through Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts. Therefore, there will be spoilers for all four books.  
  
Notes: I'm attempting to write this in the same style as J.K. Rowling writes the books. I'm basically trying to write, in essence the next book. Well, where my imagination takes it at least! I realise that to do what she will is an impossibility, but I'm just having a bit of fun and *need* to get this out of my head! You may notice that a lot of the first chapter will simple rehash the last book, but as I'm planning on integrating it all into my story, I felt it needed to be done.  
  
Summary: Harry and his friends are back at Hogwarts for their fifth year. But with Voldemort back, what lengths will they have to go to to protect the ones they love? Cemara stones, Atlantis, interschool exchanges and Animagi, what can possibly go wrong.?  
  
Feedback: Please let me know how I'm doing as I'm attempting a completely different style and pointers, praise, tips and ideas are all welcome, as is constructive criticism. Please send no flames.  
  
Email address: kyizifanfic@hotmail.com  
  
Yahoo Group:   
  
Notes: A big thanks to my betas Heliona and Loriel who spent ages trawling through this! Love ya! *mwah*  
  
NB: if you've read chapters 1 to 3 before, you might want to reread them, they're been completely redone! Most of the old stuff is still there, but it's definitely not the same by a long shot!  
  
~x~x~x~x~x~  
  
Part Four  
  
The Familiar Stranger  
  
~x~x~x~x~x~  
  
Harry's time at The Burrow seemed to fly by. His days were filled with endless Quidditch and chess, even a few trips to Diagon Alley, but before he knew it, the beginning of the school year was fast approaching. Since his arrival, life at The Burrow had returned to normal, and was fairly quiet, well, as quiet as life with the Weasleys could be, and Harry noticed that no one had even made a mention of Ginny's fiery behaviour, although it was not difficult to see that the twins were still keeping their distance. For her part, the youngest Weasley seemed to have retreated into herself since his birthday dinner, and was being more shy and even quieter than Harry had ever seen her, and he wasn't sure that he liked it at all.  
  
Every day that passed seemed to weigh more on Harry's mind. He had been only been at the Weasleys' for a few days before he realised that there was something that they weren't telling him, and not just him, Ron, Ginny and the twins seemed to be in the dark as well. Every night Mr. Weasley and Percy came home from work with the same look in their eyes as Charlie and Bill. It was something that no one seemed willing to talk about and Harry knew it was something to do with Voldemort. It was only through Hermione's letters that they knew anything. From what she had read in the Daily Prophet, there had been regular attacks throughout the world, but mostly concentrated in England and mostly concentrated on Muggles. The ministry was, of course, denying that the attacks were anything to do with "You Know Who", and all reports of death eater attacks were exaggerated. For some reason, things had subsided over the last few weeks and no one was sure what that meant.  
  
Something else that was heavy on Harry's mind, was that his nightmares had stopped. There was nothing, not even a twinge in his forehead, and yet he knew from Mr. Weasley's brief accounts to the family that Voldemort was definitely on the move. The Ministry of Magic (who Mr. Weasley worked for) still refused to acknowledge that Voldemort was back and were brushing over the recurring Death Eater attacks as unrelated. It worried him, but he had yet to mention it to Ron or his family. He felt extremely uncomfortable whenever there was more news of attacks, for the entire family would fix him with a sympathetic gaze, assuming that he had been subject to more nightmares. In spite of this, Harry was trying to remain upbeat, his only thought that he did not have to see the Dursleys for another year, and that was really enough to make anyone happy.  
  
Harry groaned as Ron's clock yelled at him to get out of bed. Yawning and stretching, he forced himself to open his eyes and sit up, pulling his glasses on as he did. Taking a quick look around the room, he noted that Ron was no longer in his bed and, for once, it was neatly made. In fact, looking around the room, he could see that the entire room was neat and tidy. Frowning, he pulled off the covers and stood up, risking a glace in the mirror.  
  
"And frown you should," his reflection said with disdain. "Take a good look at yourself, young man. You're a mess! If I were you, I'd go and make myself presentable before that girl arrives. But of course I'm not you, I'm only."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and headed towards the bathroom, thankful that the mirror had at least reminded him of Hermione's arrival this afternoon. He smiled as he suddenly realised the reason for the tidiness of Ron's room. Shaking his head, he fumbled for a towel in the small cupboard on one of the house's landings. He closed the door and turned, colliding into someone with a small thud. Suddenly alert, his eyes widened at the small yelp Ginny made when connecting with the floor.  
  
"Oh! I'm sorry." He stood still for a moment, still half asleep. Shaking himself awake, he timidly extended a hand. "Are.are you all right?" Ginny blushed and nodded, slowly reaching out to let Harry pull her up. Harry cleared his throat. "I.er, I should pay more attention to where I'm going."  
  
Ginny shook her head. "Well, you're not the only one." She smiled softly and headed down the stairs.  
  
Harry frowned after her, still unable to believe that she was the same Ginny that he had seen glowing red with rage in the Weasleys' garden a few weeks ago. He shook his head and walked towards the bathroom, dreading the rest of a day he would normally enjoy. Today he would have to go into Diagon Alley for school supplies, which meant he was closer to heading back to Hogwarts.which meant he'd have to face the reality that Voldemort was indeed alive, and they were at war.  
  
*  
  
Diagon Alley was bustling with students and parents alike. There were crowds of people in the streets, large groups and friends reuniting after a summer apart. The shops were full of people, buying for their next year at Hogwarts as animals screeched about them.  
  
Large groups of people were moving to and from Flourish and Blotts as the release of the new book by Tadhg Sinclair drew in large crowds. The young man, having recently finished a stint working with the Aurors in Azkaban, had published a book which was selling quicker than it could be restocked, as people wanted any kind of reassurance that the wizarding world was safe, even if it was only a small part of it.  
  
The rumours that were circulating about Voldemort's return were unnerving everyone, even those who refused to believe that they were, in fact, true. Any reminder of the Dark Lord was something that people did not want to be faced with, and so, when Harry and the Weasleys had entered Diagon Alley, people were quick to stare, but anxious to leave them alone.  
  
Hermione smiled and turned to the others, running a hand through her straight brown hair. As a present for doing so well at school, Hermione's parents had given her a magical hair serum to straighten her messy locks and she had decided to try it out before school, with great effect. Added to the fact that her teeth were no longer too big, she didn't mind admitting that she looked rather nice. Not that she particularly cared about her appearance, she just happened to like the look on Ron's face when he had seen her.  
  
She shook her head and sighed at her friends. They were standing outside Quality Quidditch Supplies, the best broom shop in the area. Quidditch was the most popular Wizarding sport and while Harry was already on their House team at Hogwarts, Ron was hoping to try out for the newly available position of Keeper when they returned to school.  
  
The first thing they had spotted was the latest Firebolt. Although not much different to Harry's broomstick, the Firebolt Gateway had an improved handling capability that allowed the owner an even smoother, faster flight. Needless to say, Ron was in awe of the broom and annoyed at the price.  
  
"Right," Hermione said, and the others forced their attention from the shop window. "The first thing we need to do is decide which extra courses we're taking this year, because we'll need to get the supplies and books for them. Now I was thinking of."  
  
"Extra courses?" Ron asked incredulously, stopping in his tracks. "Honestly, you'd think they wanted to work us into the ground. Bloody school!"  
  
"Really, Ron. Haven't you read your letter?" Hermione asked, her frown aimed not only Ron, but Harry and Ginny also. They had been standing at the same end of Diagon Alley for over half an hour, having left the others to go about their shopping. Mrs. Weasley had requested that Ginny accompany them, but the youngest Weasley had simply stood next to them in silence, knowing that she would mostly be using the books and supplies handed down to her from Ron and her older brothers. However, even she had admired the new broom.  
  
Harry glanced at Ginny, but she seemed slightly preoccupied. Part of him wanted to ask her what was wrong, but he didn't really know her well enough to do that. Harry shook his head, turning back to look at Hermione, trying to remain focussed as she read aloud her letter.  
  
"All students will require a copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 by Miranda Goshawk," she began, and Harry smothered a laugh as Ron rolled his eyes, only stopping on receiving a sharp glare from Hermione. "Students will also require a second cauldron, and their Cemara stone. Then it ."  
  
"A what stone?" Harry asked, frowning.  
  
"A Cemara stone," Ron said. "It's a powerful gem or mineral. Each wizard or witch has a different stone. It's attuned to your magical abilities. You can spend your whole life looking for the right one. Although most people born around the same time of year have the same type of stone."  
  
Hermione nodded. "It's where Muggles get birth stones from. You can use them to help with specialised spells." She smiled at him. "Most wizards and witches are given them at birth as a gift from their godparents. I haven't got one though because my godparents were Muggles and no one really knew I was a witch."  
  
Harry frowned. "I guess I don't have one anymore.it must have been destroyed or lost."  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence. Harry noticed Ron and Hermione glance sidelong at each other, both unsure what they should say, both knowing that he was thinking of his parents' death.  
  
Suddenly Ginny asked, "I left my letter at home, what were the extra subjects again?"  
  
Smiling at her in relief, Hermione looked once more at her letter. "Well, it lists the books we'll need for our other classes. Then it says, 'Students entering fourth to seventh year will be offered the following optional extras (at least one must be taken).'"  
  
"One must be taken? Some option," Ron muttered.  
  
Hermione shook her head and continued. "There are six classes on option. 'More Medicine: Learn to improve your basic medical spells and train yourself further in medical magic.' Requires: Medical Miracles, Learning to Heal, by Needa Bandayd. 'Advanced Protection: Brush up on you protective spells and learn the more complicated defensive arts.' Requires: Spells and Charms for the Ultimate Protection, by Iywil Wotchova. 'Higher Level Charm Breaking: Learn the more complicated charm breaking and improve your own thinking skills.' Requires: Let Me In! by Ive Charisma. 'Advanced Potions: Learn more the more complex potions to help you with any problems.' Requires: Brew Me A Future, by Conn Cocshon. 'Dragon Magick: Learn how these magickal creatures can help your abilities.' Requires: Dancing With Dragons, by Draco Jive Conway and finally, 'Archaeology and Ancient History: Learn how to search for and find ancient treasures long lost.' Requires: The Search For the Past, by Bee Hynd."  
  
"Well, that last one will be right up your alley, Gin." The youngest Weasley blushed and turned away as Ron grinned. "Think I'll do Dragon Magick myself. What about you, Harry?"  
  
"I think I've done enough dancing with dragons, thanks," Harry said with a slight shudder. "I think I might do Advanced Protection. Hermione?"  
  
Ron snorted. "Why bother asking, she'll be doing them all."  
  
Hermione glared at Ron before replying, "Actually, I have no intention of doing Dragon Magick, but, yes. I plan to do the others."  
  
"Are you mad?" Ron asked incredulously, despite the fact that he had more or less suspected she would be doing the others. "Advanced Potions? With Snape?"  
  
"Well, it's not exactly my choice who teaches the courses. Honestly, Ron," Hermione admonished. "I think all the courses will come in rather handy. It would really have been helpful over the last four years if at least one of us had basic medical training."  
  
Harry nodded, although the idea of learning about bones, and blood, and the inner workings of his body really did make him feel rather nauseous. If it was inside his body, he wasn't meant to see it and therefore how it worked did not really interest him - unless of course it wasn't working properly, then he might need to know.  
  
"I think Hermione's right."  
  
"Isn't she always?" Ron muttered, but he quickly shut up when he saw the hurt look that momentarily crossed Hermione's face.  
  
"I think I might do Medicine as well," Harry finished.  
  
Ron groaned and rolled his eyes. "I guess it would help. Okay, I'm in."  
  
With that settled, Hermione nodded and began to lead the way towards Flourish and Blotts. Almost as an afterthought, she turned to Ginny, beckoning the younger girl to catch up with her.  
  
"What about you, Ginny? The classes are for fourth to seventh years and they're taught in Houses, so you'd be in our classes."  
  
The younger Weasley blushed slightly, seemingly embarrassed that everyone's attention was currently on her. "I, I don't know," she said softly. "I'll look at the books and think about it."  
  
Hermione raised her eyebrows a little, but said nothing more about the subject as her attention was quickly focussed on something else. Her eyes lit up as she led them down a small alley that led off just opposite the small second-hand broom shop. The street sign was dirty and hung limply on one hook, making a slight squeak as the gentle wind battered it against the wall. Harry squinted but was finally able to make out the words stating that they were on Peridot Lane.  
  
Leading them through the narrow pass, she cautiously peered into a shop window, holding her hand above her eyes as if trying to determine whether or not the shop was open. Harry frowned and looked at Ron, who shrugged. He had no idea where their friend was leading them and it seemed that Ron didn't know either.  
  
"Eh, Hermione?"  
  
"This is it," she said, a small smile of satisfaction lighting up her face. "Come on."  
  
Without further explanation, or even waiting for a reply, she turned into the shop and opened the door as quietly as she could, the tinkling of the bell seeming to send out some sort of warm magical welcome.  
  
Turning to look at Ron and Ginny, Harry shrugged and the three of them followed Hermione into the shop. On entering, Harry's first impression was like that of Olivanders. He didn't know what it was, but there was something strangely welcoming and undeniably intense about the shop. It was dully lit, and there was the occasional cobweb in the high corners of the ceiling, but despite that, the shop seemed well cared for and clean.  
  
Harry's attention was divided. Before him was a large glass cabinet about waist height that spread the entire length of the shop. There was another behind him, as well as one at the back. The three cabinets sectioned off the customers into a small area, with another cabinet down the middle of the shop, leaving the area behind the three at the edges for larger cabinets that filled the entire length and height of the walls, as well as leaving a small corridor of passage for the elderly man that was speaking in soft tones to Hermione.  
  
The layout of the shop reminded Harry of a Muggle jewellery shop, although he had never been in one, he had seen some on some of the films Dudley had watched growing up. Harry felt himself being pulled towards a particular section of the cabinet filled with red stones. It was a strange feeling, something that he couldn't really explain. He found himself looking at the cut of the stones, watching the way the light played against them, but none in particular held his attention. He felt strangely at peace.  
  
"Ah, Mr. Potter, how nice to see you again."  
  
Harry looked up at the small man that was standing behind the counter. The man was not that much smaller than him, but Harry felt as if he were towering over him. The man's grey hair was sticking up at odd angles and his orange eyes sparkled up at Harry through green square rimmed glasses.  
  
"I'm sorry," Harry said, frowning. "Do I know you?"  
  
"Ah, that is a simple question. Easy to ask, not so easy to answer."  
  
Harry's frown deepened, and he cast a slight glance at the others, who looked as baffled as Harry felt. He turned back to the man, and squinted a little. There was something odd, he knew he had never met the man before, but at the same time there was something mysteriously familiar and comforting about him. For someone so seemingly small, the man cast a large presence, and Harry instantly felt as if he were engulfed by it.  
  
"What do you mean?" he asked, feeling as if he really didn't have the right to question the man.  
  
"I remember you like it was yesterday. You came in with the handsome young man and the little brunette, all cuddled up warm in your blanket." The man paused a moment, before grinning madly. "A little terror you were! Had your poor godparents running about after you." The man shook his head as he took a trip back in time and Harry listened intently, anxious for any information on his past, any small piece of family he could find from a time he was loved.  
  
"Just as well this place is child proof. Needs to be really, with all these children coming in for their stones." He sighed and looked down at his gnarled cane for a moment. "Those were the better days. Don't get so much business now that the pretty little new age shop opened at the far end of The Alley."  
  
Harry fought off a smile at the way the man said the words 'The Alley', as if it were an encampment of enemy spies that should be destroyed. Still listening, Harry followed the man as he walked around to the cabinet at the back of the shop, where Hermione was standing, also listening to the tale the man was telling.  
  
"I still remember the mess you could have made if that cabinet had toppled. I still have no idea how you managed to put your hand though that glass!"  
  
"I put - I put my hand through glass?" he asked, his eyes widening.  
  
The old man chuckled and continued. "You certainly did. I can still see the shock on young Madeline's face when you pulled up that stone and said, 'Mine'. Oh, Mr. Black just laughed and said you would turn out just like your father, but that Madeline was a worrier, had you off that floor quicker than you can say trouble."  
  
Harry frowned. "Madeline? Who was she?"  
  
The man sighed and Harry watched as a shadow cast over his face. "Damn shame that was. That little girl was head over heels. Almost destroyed her, it did. She lost your parents and the love of her life all in one day." He shook his head. "Damn shame. She was broken, they say. Ran off, couldn't believe her Sirius had done what they said he'd done. Didn't believe it myself, still don't."  
  
He looked up at Harry a fierce power in his eyes. "You listen to me, young Harry. That man was as loving a friend as he was a godfather and I don't believe a word of what they say. It was the day that they were in here with you that it all happened. And I was out there later that night as well, I saw it with my own eyes, but I don't believe it for a second."  
  
He sighed. "And your godmother? Well, she was a lovely girl, but losing them all, she couldn't handle it. She might've thought she lost you as well, that's my theory. Ran off the minute everyone heard, and you know the first reports said you were gone too. Destroyed. The entire family gone and Mr. Black to blame. Those were dark times. And that dark cloud's coming again, Mr. Potter, you watch out, you hear? And mark my words, because Matthew Marks is never wrong about dark times," he said grimly. He took a moment before shaking his head and winking at them. "Shame really, I can always see the dark times, but I never know when to place a bet on the Quidditch Cup!"  
  
Harry nodded, still in shock. It had never really occurred to him that he might have a godmother. Sirius was all that he'd ever known about and, along with Professor Lupin all that he'd really cared about over the last two years. Sirius was his only family and now, to hear about this Madeline, who was supposedly not only his godmother, but from what it sounded like, in love with Sirius. He frowned, thinking more than ever how much he wanted to talk to his godfather, or get a message to him. Ginny was the last person he knew about that had had contact with Sirius now that Charlie and Bill had gone again, but he still wasn't comfortable talking to her.  
  
He sighed, and glanced again at the stones in the cabinet on his right. Although he still felt drawn to him, they held less appeal now that he knew he had had one of his own. He just didn't understand what he was meant to do now. Should he purchase another stone? He turned to the man prepared to ask him what to do when the man spoke first.  
  
"It wouldn't be of any use, Mr. Potter."  
  
"Sorry?" Harry asked, a little confused.  
  
Mr. Marks' eyes twinkled a little. "Another stone wouldn't be of any use to you. You need one that is in magical alignment with you and I have nothing here for you." At Harry's look, he smiled warmly. "It'll turn up, don't fret."  
  
Harry cast one more glance at the cabinet and nodded, a part of him wondering if he would ever fit in to the magical world. There was always something that seemed out of place, something new he discovered that stopped him from fitting in. He was likely to be the only one without a Cemara stone and that wasn't something he was looking forward to.  
  
"And I remember this little one as well. How could I forget?"  
  
Harry turned just in time to see Ginny's face turn bright red. It was as if someone was colouring her in from the top of her head and filling it down in bright scarlet.  
  
"Now you, young lady, made more of a fuss in here than I've ever seen." He smiled at Ginny and walked over to the cabinet on the other side of the room, stepping out of a small gap and into the main customer area. He walked to the cabinet in the centre of the room and Ginny followed, although Harry wasn't sure if it was of her own free will or because she could no longer stop herself moving towards the stones in the cabinet.  
  
"October, if I recall?" When Ginny nodded and smiled and looked into the cabinet. "Opal is definitely my favourite," he winked at Ginny. "We definitely chose the right month to be born in, young one. You especially, came out three months early if I recall!"  
  
Harry hadn't thought it possible, but Ginny's face continued to turn a darker shade of red every time Mr. Marks spoke. Intrigued by what he was learning about the youngest Weasley, he took a few steps closer to the cabinet, looking over at Ginny on the other side.  
  
"I hear that brother of yours finally found his?" Ginny nodded and he smiled. "A crystallised dragon tear, I believe? Doesn't surprise me." He sighed and looked again at Ginny. "I still don't think we have anything for you, little dragon." Ginny's face almost exploded at that, and Harry smiled and turned to Ron, who was snickering.  
  
"Charlie used to call her that when she was younger. He and Bill are her godparents, you know, an extra godfather instead of a godmother. Ginny was Charlie's favourite, because the two of them didn't have Cemara stones. Didn't want to be in the house when they were mad at the same time, especially if they were mad at each other!" Ron shuddered, then smiled. "He even dressed her up in a dragon suit at Halloween when she was little."  
  
"Ron!" Harry instantly looked at Ginny, almost shocked to see how quick a transition she had made from shy and withdrawn to quick tempered. As if sensing his thoughts, Ginny quickly went quiet and seemed to shrink into herself again, looking into the cabinet in dismay.  
  
"Now, now. I have never failed to find someone a stone, or at least point them in the right direction. It might be a long road, Miss Weasley, but you will get there. Your stone will bind your powers, and give you the control you need. It's different for Muggle born witches as you see in your friend here," he smiled at Hermione. "She's in control, doesn't need to be bonded at an early age. Mr. Potter was bonded but I'll bet if he's been away from his stone for a while, he's been able to do some fancy wandless magic when he was angry."  
  
Harry frowned, thinking back to his ill-fated trip to the zoo before he had known who he really was. He had been so angry at Dudley that he hadn't even realised what had happened, even over the last few years, he had never thought much about it. But Mr. Marks was right; he had done some wandless magic when his temper got the better of him, like blowing up Uncle Vernon's sister. And if this was what he was like having been bonded with his Cemara stone, wherever it was, he couldn't even think about how it must be for Ginny.  
  
"The youngest Mr. Weasley." He smiled at Ron. "Hope you haven't broken that small diamond of yours yet, or even worse, let those twin brothers of yours near it! That cost your parents a pretty penny, you take care of it."  
  
Ron turned scarlet at the mention of his parent's money, knowing that his stone had been the most expensive of the family. Including the combined prices of the twins. And he didn't like to think that his parents could have been better off if they hadn't had to buy it.  
  
"Now, young lady, you don't have a stone yet, I believe," Mr Marks said, turning to Hermione. "September? Another reason you're so clear of thought and in control, I imagine."  
  
"Y-Yes," Hermione said, a little started at the correct guess of her birth month.  
  
"The Sapphire, one of the most beautiful of stones, definitely a favourite!"  
  
"I think I've already spotted my."  
  
"This one, I believe?" Mr. Marks had opened the cabinet and was presenting Hermione with a small light blue stone, one that rested gently on his palm on a piece of silk cloth.  
  
"Yes!" Hermione reached out for the stone, picking it off the cloth. As soon as the stone came into contact with her hand, a brilliant blue light, emanating from Hermione's hand, lit the shop. The light grew steadily smaller until it encompassed only Hermione in an aura of radiant blue. "I'll take it," she said with a smile, picking the silk cloth from Mr. Marks' hand and wrapping her stone up.  
  
Mr Marks nodded and, careful not to touch the stone itself, he picked it up from Hermione's hand and placed it into a small cloth pouch, which he pulled shut with a thin rope at either side. Moving to the cash register, Mr. Marks rung up Hermione's purchase and the four of them prepared to leave, waving goodbye to the old man before moving to the door.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye, something caught Harry's attention, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. The purple paper fluttered in the breeze as Ron opened the door, the bell singing out it's melody in a sweet magical tone and, before he could think about it any more, they were back on Diagon Alley preparing to get ready for school, and, despite his slight dread at living with the reality of the war, Harry felt the excitement of returning to Hogwarts rising in his stomach with every step.  
  
~x~x~x~x~x~  
  
End of Part Four  
  
What'll happen when the gang gets back to Hogwarts? What is Voldemort up to? Will Ginny and Harry find their Cemara stones? What about an exchange to Durmstrang and Beauxbatons? And what about Animagi?  
  
You'll have to wait for the next chapter to find out anything!  
  
Any and all feedback is welcome! Constructive criticism or just a wee hello is always appreciated. I hope you all liked and I hope you'll continue to read.  
  
The book "Dancing With Dragons" is a real Muggle book! ;-p It is written by someone called D.J. Conway, but I did make up his first names. I may use quotes from this book in future parts. 


	5. Chapter 5: The Empty Express

Chapter Five

The Empty Express

By Kyizi

Yahoo! Group: KyiziFic

E-mail: kyizifanfic@hotmail.com

Harry groaned and sat back on his trunk. Rubbing his eyes, he forced himself to stay awake. As far as he was concerned, this time of the morning was not meant to be seen, why else would nature make it so dark? The only exception was for Quidditch practice and even then, Harry had issues. Hearing thumping on the stairs, Harry turned to see Ginny and Hermione sleepily pulling their trunks down the stairs, the back ends banging on each step in succession.

"Girls, do you have to make so much noise?" Molly Weasley asked, hurriedly pulling out her wand and levitating her daughter and Hermione's trunks down the stairs and placing them next to Harry's. "Ron! Fred! George! Will you please get a move on, or you'll miss the train!" Shaking her head, she turned on her heel and moved quickly to the kitchen to clear away the remainder of their breakfast plates. They had eaten early, seeing Bill and Charlie off before getting themselves ready.

"I can't believe the train's leaving at six!" Hermione said, flopping down on Harry's trunk next to him. She reached down to pick up Crookshanks, who had followed her down the stairs, and began to stroke him. She looked like she had something on her mind, which Harry supposed wasn't all that unusual, she was Hermione, after all, but he had to wonder if there was something bothering his friend, something besides their early rise.

"It's just evil!" Ginny groaned, slumping to her knees, before just giving in and lying face down on the floor at their feet. "Wake me up at a reasonable hour," she mumbled, turning her face to the side, and Harry smiled at her as she scrunched up her nose, trying to itch it without having to move her hands from cushioning her head.

"Virginia Weasley! Get up off the floor this instant!" Ginny jumped up off the ground quicker that Harry could blink as they all gazed as Mrs. Weasley, suddenly wide awake. "Ron, Fred, George, you get down here NOW!"

"Now, now, Molly, calm down. We'll get them all to the station on time," Mr Weasley said, muffling a yawn, and leaned to kiss his wife on the cheek. 

A few moments later, Ron and the twins came hurtling down the stairs, their trunks smacking off the stairs, sending Mrs. Weasley into another frenzy. Harry wasn't so sure what to make of it. It wasn't that he had never seen Mrs. Weasley get a little worked up before, but there seemed to be something that was making her fret more than usual.

"Now, are we all ready to go?" Mr. Weasley asked and when there was a consensus of nods, he smiled and opened the door. 

*

The trip to the station had been a complete blur as Harry and the Weasleys had, as always, ended up running late. However, much to everyone's joy, both Harry and Ron had made it safely onto the train without any mishaps, an almost broken broom not withstanding. 

Harry's theory that there was something bothering Mrs. Weasley was further proven when she had had trouble letting any of them go when wishing them all goodbye. She seemed very teary but keeping on a brave front and none of them seemed to know why.

"Now all of you, keep safe," Mrs. Weasley said, seeming to aim her request at Harry, Ron and Hermione. "And no getting into trouble." There were no surprises when she aimed that remark at the twins.

"We'll be fine, mum," Ginny said with a smile, and Mrs. Weasley nodded.

"Well, there will be someone keeping you safe this term, so I want you to promise to be good."

They all frowned as Ron asked, "What do you mean, someone keeping us safe?"

"The train is about to leave. Everyone on."

"But,"

"George! On the train!"

Without further argument, they all boarded the train and waved to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley before the twins separated from them and went to find their friends. Harry followed Hermione through the train and they quickly found a carriage, no one really commenting on the fact that the train was all but empty. No one really wanted to comment on it. No one wanted to think about what was happening to the wizarding world and why it would stop people from coming to school. Usually the train would have been mostly full by the time they had arrived and it would have been a struggle to find anywhere to sit. 

Without talking, they had settled into their empty carriage and Ginny had quickly snuggled up in the seat next to Harry, falling almost instantly asleep. Harry and Ron, who were sitting opposite each other in order to play on Harry's chessboard, had quickly given up on the idea of thinking and Ron had followed his sisters example. Hermione, however, had immediately pulled out _The Standard Book of Spells and started reading it, despite the fact that she'd read it the day she bought it, deciding that, if she was awake, she might as well study.___

The hum of the Hogwarts Express was making its way up through Harry's feet and he smiled, gazing out the window at the passing scenery. It was hard to believe that he was actually in his fifth year and about to start preparing for his OWL's, Ordinary Wizarding Levels, although that wasn't something he really wanted to think about, no, the thought at the forefront of his mind was Quidditch. He was finally going to be able to play a real Quidditch match again. Quidditch was the Wizarding worlds most popular sport and Harry had been on his house team since his first year, something he was extremely proud of, a love of the sport was something he had in common with his father.

There was a creak as the door was suddenly pulled open and Harry turned to see a shocked brunette staring at him from the doorway. He frowned and shifted a little under her scrutiny, and turned to look at Ron who had woken up when the door opened. Ron was looking at the girl and rolling his eyes.

"Hey Martha," Hermione said with a grin, indicating that the girl should enter. She didn't move. "Do you want to join us?"

"I-I just came looking for Ginny," the girl said, still staring at Harry.

"Well, you found me." Ginny smiled, yawning and rubbing her eyes.

"We-we have a carriage. We thought you might want to join us but if you'd rather stay here then that's okay. I mean-"

Ginny giggled a little. "No, that's okay. You guys don't mind?"

Hermione shook her head and answered for them all. "No, you go ahead, Ginny, we'll see you when we get to school."

"Yeah, we'll see you later," Harry said, smiling.

"Okay."

Harry watched as Ginny practically dragged her friend away from the door, rolling her eyes as she shut it over behind them. Ron mumbled something about his sister's stupid friends and began searching his pockets for what Harry assumed was a sweet of some kind. Turning back to the window, Harry let his thoughts wander to his Godfather.

Sirius had been on his mind a lot recently, and with Charlie mentioning Ginny's speaking to him and with everything Mr. Marks had told him, he was suddenly more anxious to speak to his Godfather. He hadn't had the chance to speak to Ginny about Sirius yet, and he honestly didn't know what he would say to her if he had. More than anything, he just wanted to be reassured that Sirius was okay, but he also had so many questions he wanted to ask, about the war, about his parents, about Madelaine. There were so many things and, a lot of them. Harry had to wonder if he'd ever find out the answers to.

"What's the matter, Potter, your flying carpet not working?"

Harry resisted the urge to groan as he turned to the doorway. He'd been so lost in his thoughts he hadn't heard the door opening. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"I see you decided to grace us with your presence. What's the matter? Did you run out of ways to show off?"

"Yeah, it ran out about the same time as your blond hair dye. What's the matter, Malfoy, going grey?" Ron snickered and Harry took the opportunity to look at what Ron was talking about. There was a definite greyness to Malfoy's hair and his eyes, normally grey seemed to be rather pink.

Hermione snickered. "You were trying the Hallowed Spell?" Malfoy instantly coloured, confirming whatever Hermione had implied.

"Shut up, mud blood," he said icily.

Ron jumped to his feet angrily and was about to lunge at Malfoy, but Harry was quicker. He grabbed Ron before his friend had the chance to move any further than a few steps.

"Beat it, Malfoy." Ron said, glaring at the (almost) blond haired boy.

Malfoy smirked and shook his head. "It's you who'll be getting the beating, Weasley. The Quidditch pitch is ours this year, and with the exchange from Durmstrang, we'll have plenty of new players to help us win the cup."

"You mean, you're staying?" Hermione asked. "Funny, I would have thought you'd jump at the chance to go to Durmstrang."

Malfoy sneered. "And miss seeing Potter's face when I beat him to the snitch this year? I don't think so." With that final remark, the Slytherins closed the carriage door, their laughter echoing through the almost empty train.

"Why can't he just blow up or something," Ron muttered as they took their seats again. "You did it to your Aunt one time, Harry, think you could do it to Malfoy?"

Harry smiled. "It was reversible."

Ron shrugged. "It'd be worth it just to see his perfectly snotty face exploding into a million pieces."

Harry smiled and turned to Hermione. "What was that about an exchange?" he asked.

"I'd only heard rumours, but I think they're doing an interschool exchange with Beauxbattons and Durmstrang with the older years."

Ron frowned. "Who would want to go to Durmstrang?" he exclaimed. "Except maybe the Slytherins." His face seemed to brighten. "Maybe we could send them all to Durmstrang. The school would be better without them."

Hermione smiled and shook her head. "Well, no one was even sure if anything was going to come of it. With the war going on, most parents aren't going to want to send their children off to another country."

Harry nodded and leaned back in his chair, staring out of the window again. A few moments later, the sweet trolley came by and Harry bought some sweets for them all, insisting it was his treat for thanking them for a great birthday, and although they all happily sat munching on their sweets, Harry was still convinced that there was something wrong with Hermione.

"Are you okay?" He wasn't really sure how to approach the subject. He remembered full well that Hermione was a girl, a fact that he and Ron tended to forget, but he knew she sometimes reacted to things too much like, well, a female, for his liking. And he never seemed to know when that would be. He was only hoping that he could be tactful enough not to set her off on one.

"What?" She glanced at him, a little shocked at the question, and Harry noticed that Ron was also looking at him strangely.

"I don't know, you just seem a little…upset?"

"Oh," Hermione blushed and looked down at her book. "It's nothing, just, well, nothing."

"Oh, come on, Hermione, just tell us," Ron said, and Harry almost kicked him for being so tactless. Surely his friend remembered the way Hermione had reacted after the Yule ball.

Hermione, however, seemed to want to be normal today, and not act like a girl. "Well, it's just, I mean."

"Well, spit it out."

She turned to glare at Ron, before shaking her head and turning to Harry. She looked rather upset, and Harry prayed that she wouldn't cry. "I'm just, well…I'm not a prefect, am I?"

"Oh, is that it." This time Harry did kick him. "Ouch! What?" Harry glared at him, but Ron turned to Hermione. "Look, dad said that Dumbledore was waiting to see who'd be coming back before granting prefect and head boy and girl status this year. I think he wants to see who's coming back first."

"Oh," Hermione sat back. "So that's why it wasn't on our letters?"

"Yeah. I think Dumbledore's a bit worried that loads of people won't come back. You know, because of You-Know-Who."

"Oh," she smiled a little and turned back to her book.

"Besides." Hermione looked up at Ron and he seemed, to Harry, to be turning red at the tips of his ears. "We all know you'll be a prefect. They'd be mad not to."

Hermione smiled and blushed, before quickly absorbing herself in _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5_, once more. Harry smirked at Ron, but when his friend scowled at him, he simply turned to look out the window again.

"I think we're nearly there," he said, squinting to try and make out the light ahead. There was a click as the door opened again and Ginny smiled as she entered. 

"I forgot my book," she said with a smile, leaning to pick up a small, battered, red notebook. "We're just about there, I think." 

As she spoke, they felt the train slowing down and Harry looked once more at the lights that were even closer now. He was able to make out the writing at the station and he smiled as he spotted the outline of the castle in the distance. 

He was home.

_~x~x~x~x~x~_

End of Part Five 

  
~x~x~x~x~x~

Feedback is always appreciated, especially with this fic, in which I am attempting a different writing style, as I'm trying to keep it close to the style JKR uses.

_Any comments, constructive criticism etc is appreciated._


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